


Penetration

by Not_You



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on Avengerkink:</p><p>While Steve may not be overtly homophobic he still somewhat buys into the idea that "real men" always top and that only stereotypically effeminate/weak men enjoy being penetrated. Then he walks in on an obviously enthusiastic Clint getting fucked through the mattress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penetration

Steve really doesn't understand what's going on until it's too late. He just hears Clint's agonized sobbing and goes bursting in without thinking about several important things. Like that JARVIS would have told him if anything was wrong, or that there's a sweet, longing note in the sound that isn't pain at all. Steve is still too close to the war, every switch flipped to combat mode, his heart pounding as he creeps closer. He has to see what's going on first, and silently cracks the door, looking through.

Clint moans, utterly melted under Natasha. It's been too long since they've done this, and he writhes against the sheet, tensing his arms a little just to feel Natasha holding him down. He's not usually this loud, but it feels so fucking good he can't help it. She's so deep he sobs, helpless sounds torn from his throat as Natasha pounds into him. She's rough but he can take it. He fucking loves it, in fact, and he'd tell her so if he could just find some words. As it is, he expresses his sentiments as best he can, mute mouth worshiping her breasts when she presses them to his face.

Natasha loves having her partner like this. Either of them opening up for anyone is a miracle after all the betrayals they've been through, and she appreciates his response for what it is. His legs cradle her and his body curls up to meet her thrusts, the base of her strapon rubbing her in the same rhythm. She's wet enough to drip, but there's time for that later. Right now she wants to make Clint come without touching his cock, and alters her angle perfectly, fucking a low wail out of him. His cock twitches and his balls draw up and then the door is opening, and she's out and off, pulling her gun out of its bedside holster as Clint snatches up the heavy bronze lamp from the nightstand, still glassy-eyed.

Steve stumbles, catches himself, and feels like the serum never happened because he's so mortified that he can't even breathe. "Sorry!" He squawks, empty hands peaceably up. "Oh my god I am so sorry!" He's really not expecting them to laugh. Especially not Natasha, sitting there holding a gun and with that... thing strapped to her. He covers his eyes and blushes up to his hairline as they just laugh harder.

"Did you come to save me, Cap?" He can hear Clint grinning, and groans.

"Pretty much."

"And then stuck around to watch?" Natasha teases, putting her gun away again as Clint replaces the lamp.

"I didn't-- I had no idea what was going on, okay?"

"...I'll bet." He's surprised by the sudden sympathy in Clint's voice. "You mind if I invite him to watch, Tasha?"

"...No, I don't. If he can bear it, of course."

Steve squeaks, and shyly peeks over his hands at them. Clint smiles, the expression transfiguring his face the way it always does. "Come on, you know you want to."

And Steve does want to. He swallows hard and pulls up a chair, squirming and wishing he wasn't so obviously hard. He also wishes he could stop blushing, but there's no way that's gonna happen.

Clint has never felt quite so much affection for poor old Cap. He's just so damn shy, sitting there with a freakin' baseball bat in his pants. Clint has the file almost memorized, he knows that Steve is only about twenty-two, but it usually doesn't show like this.

"You want an actual explanation while we can still talk?"

"...Uh, yeah. Please."

Clint chuckles. "Okay, so this is pegging. It feels fucking amazing." He lets Natasha push him onto his back again, and crosses his wrists over his head.

Natasha lines up and pushes into him, making him moan and lose his train of thought, pinning his arms once she's settled inside him. "And this is some light bondage." Clint struggles a little and sighs, wrapping his legs around her hips again.

"Is he actually trying to get loose?"

"Not really. He likes to struggle a little to feel that I'm holding him where I want him. It makes him feel safe." Clint blushes and whimpers, moaning softly as Natasha grinds into him, deep and quick. "If he really wants his hands free we have what's called a safeword."

"Like a code?"

"Yes," she murmurs, drawing further out and plunging back in, "like a code."

Clint cries out softly, and soon he's sobbing again, Natasha pounding into him.

"Looks like it hurts," Steve whispers after a long moment, transfixed.

Clint rolls his head to look at Steve. "No." Natasha cants her hips to that perfect angle again and he wails, struggling in her grip.

Natasha purrs, seeing that Clint is close again and pounding him through it, forcing sweet little high-pitched noises out of him until he hauls in one last deep breath and howls, eyes rolling back in his head. It goes on for a long time, and in the quiet afterward she can hear Steve whimpering. She glances over and smiles to see him clutching at the edges of the seat, flushed and trembling. She smiles, slowly pulling out of Clint and unbuckling the harness.

"You mind if Steve and I help each other out, Clint?"

"S'long as I c'n watch."

"Steve?"

"Please," he whispers, then does some more squirming before continuing nervously, "I-I'm--"

"We know you're a virgin, Steve." Natasha gets up and presses a kiss to his cheek. "And if you have a certain base you want to stop at, that's fine."

He should have known she'd be gentle with him. Deadly as the Black Widow is, she has a delicate touch and uses it now, easing him out of his jeans. She makes a surprised, pleased little noise, gently squeezing his cock. "Glad you like it," he whispers, and she laughs, kissing him softly.

"You're uncut. Most American men are these days."

"Cut? Like Jewish guys?"

"Yes. I like the texture, personally. No offense, Clint."

"None taken." He sits up and uses his own discarded shirt to wipe himself clean, unselfconscious as an animal.

"I never would have--ah! I never would've thought a guy like you would like taking it." Steve shivers and rocks into Natasha's grip.

"Why not?"

"Well..." He wouldn't really know how to explain it even if Natasha wasn't touching him like this. She's squeezing harder now, and moving so slowly that it's almost torture. "Ohhh, how am I supposed to make any sense right now?"

"I think he means he thought only sissies like getting fucked."

"Oh, well. That's bullshit, for sure. You should try it some time."

Steve whimpers, and Natasha laughs, speeding up. "You have plenty of time to work your way up to it. Read about it, maybe put one finger inside yourself..." Steve comes all over her hand with a helpless little whimper, and she grins. She strokes his hair while he recovers for a moment, then leads him over to the bed, settling back against the headboard, letting Clint cover her with kisses and guide Steve's big, gentle hands through getting her off.


End file.
